Next Step

The scent of roasted luminseed and spiced roots wafted through the air as Coren and Lyra sat around the campfire. Plates piled high with food lay before them—a feast far beyond the humble meals they'd grown used to during their months of training. The Watcher, for the first time, seemed lighter, almost jovial, as he poured each of them a steaming cup of brew and gestured for them to eat their fill.

"To endings and beginnings," he said, raising his cup in a quiet toast.

Coren glanced at him, her brow furrowing. "Endings?" she asked cautiously.

The Watcher chuckled, his voice low and resonant. "Yes, child. My part in your story is nearing its end. Tomorrow, I will return to my penance and my wandering. It's time for me to go."

Both Coren and Lyra stiffened, the words catching them off guard.

"What do you mean?" Lyra asked, setting her cup down. "You've been guiding us this whole time. You can't just leave."

The Watcher smiled faintly, his sharp, weathered eyes softening. "Guidance isn't forever, Lyra. You're ready to continue along the path without me."

Coren's voice cut through the quiet. "You keep saying that, but you've never explained why you care so much about us in the first place. You knew who my soul belonged to, didn't you?"

The Watcher didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze to the fire, his expression distant, as though looking back through centuries of memories. Finally, he let out a quiet laugh.

The Watcher turned to her, his eyes glimmering with something unreadable. "Your soul shines as brightly now as it did 1,200 years ago. The same fire, the same determination." He smiled warmly. "You haven't changed as much as you might think. Sometimes looking at you all I see is Sylvara"

Coren's heart skipped a beat. The words felt like both a revelation and a mystery wrapped together, and she wasn't sure how to respond. She hadn't told anyone what Zeiric had said in her dream. She wanted to know how he could tell.

Before she could press him further, the Watcher's gaze shifted to Lyra. "And you, Lyra," he said, his voice softening further, "your soul is as beautiful as it was when I first saw it, all those centuries ago."

Lyra frowned, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. "Wait, what are you talking about? You've seen my soul before?"

The Watcher didn't answer directly. Instead, he leaned back, his expression somewhere between wistful and amused. "You two have always been remarkable," he said simply.

Coren's frustration boiled over. "Stop speaking in riddles! What do you mean by that? Who was Lyra?"

The Watcher chuckled again, but this time it was tinged with sadness. "It's not for me to say. Souls are bonded to companions for eternity, and Lex has already hinted at his past. You just need to think about his anger"

Lyra turned slowly towards Lex, who hovered silently nearby, his red glow steady but unreadable. "It all makes sense, you were bonded to Empress Belle, weren't you?" she said, piecing it together aloud.

Lex didn't deny it. His glow flickered briefly, almost like a nod.

Coren opened her mouth to press further, but the Watcher stood, drawing all attention back to him.

"I suppose it's time," he said softly, his tone losing its playfulness. He stepped away from the fire, and as he did, his form began to shimmer. The edges of his body blurred, light spilling from the cracks in his skin until he was no longer flesh and bone but a being of pure, radiant energy.

Lyra and Coren both stared, speechless, as the Watcher's true form revealed itself. His glow was soft yet overwhelming, like the gentle warmth of a sun, and his outline flickered as though he were barely tethered to the physical world.

"You are ready," he said, his voice now layered with echoes. "You will find the strength to face what comes next. You must. It's time we are judged and held responsible."

"Wait!" Coren called out, stepping forward. "You can't just drop all of this on us and leave! Who are you? Why were you helping us?"

The Watcher smiled faintly, his form already beginning to fade. "I am just an old man doing his penance," he said quietly. "And now my time with you is done."

Within seconds, he was gone, disappearing into the night like a wisp of smoke.

The silence that followed was deafening. Coren and Lyra exchanged looks, both of them struggling to process what had just happened.

"That's it?" Coren said, her voice rising with frustration. "He drops a bombshell about our souls and just… vanishes? Are you kidding me?"

Lyra shook her head, her expression torn between confusion and disbelief. "I can't believe he just left like that. After everything, after months of training… he could've at least given us some real answers."

Lex's red glow brightened, a sound like a soft laugh emanating from him. "That's just like him," he said, his tone somewhere between amused and exasperated. "Always dropping cryptic truths and then disappearing before anyone can pin him down. It's his way."

Coren scowled. "Well, his 'way' is infuriating."

The Watcher's departure left a strange void in the air, like the aftershock of a profound event they hadn't fully processed yet. Sol hovered near Coren's shoulder, his glow dim, while Lex lingered closer to Lyra, his movements unusually subdued.

Coren broke the silence first, her voice quiet but tinged with frustration. "It doesn't feel real."

Lyra turned to her, frowning. "What doesn't?"

"This whole thing," Coren said, gesturing vaguely toward the sky, as if the answers to her confusion were written somewhere among the stars. "The Watcher and Zeiric say I'm Sylvara, that my soul belonged to her. But… I don't remember her. I don't remember being her. How am I supposed to believe that's who I am?"

Lyra sighed, staring into the flames. "I know what you mean. He said my soul was just as beautiful as it was 1,200 years ago, but I don't even know who I was back then. The idea of being someone else—someone important—it doesn't feel… real. I don't feel like anyone special."

Lex floated closer, his red light glowing faintly in the darkness. "You don't have to remember to be who you are," he said simply.

Coren raised an eyebrow at him. "That's easy for you to say. You remember everything, don't you?"

"Yes," Lex admitted, his tone quiet but firm. "I remember everything about the Belle. Her hopes, her dreams, her struggles. And I can see her soul in you, Lyra. Even if you don't remember her, I can feel her essence within you."

Lyra looked at him sharply, her expression conflicted. "But I'm not her. I don't have her memories, her experiences. Whatever this 'essence' is, it's not the same as being her. I'm… me."

Sol, who had been silent until now, floated forward, his silver glow steady. "And you're right, Lyra. You are you. But your soul—the part of you that guides your actions, your choices, your essence—that hasn't changed. The environment you were born into may have shaped you differently this time, but at your core, you are still the same."

Coren frowned, her fingers brushing against the edge of her satchel. "So you're saying that I am Sylvara? That even without her memories, I'm still… her?"

"Yes," Sol said, his voice calm and certain. "Your essence is the same. I can sense it, just as Lex can sense Belle in Lyra. It's not about memories, Coren. It's about who you are at your core. Sylvara's soul was defined by her compassion, her strength, her unshakable resolve—and those qualities live on in you."

Coren shook her head, still struggling to grasp the concept. "But I'm not compassionate," she muttered. "I get angry, frustrated. I make mistakes. How can I be someone so… important?"

Lex let out a soft chuckle, the sound carrying a hint of fondness. "Belle wasn't perfect either," he said. "She had doubts. She made mistakes. But she always tried to do what was right, even when it was hard. That's what made her who she was. And I see that in Lyra now, just as Sol sees Sylvara in you."

Lyra ran a hand through her hair, her gaze fixed on the flames. "It's a lot to take in," she admitted. "To think that my soul once belonged to someone who led an entire galaxy… I don't even know how to process that."

"You don't have to," Sol said gently. "You don't have to be her, Lyra. You just have to be yourself. The essence of who you are is the same, but this life is yours. Your choices, your experiences—they're yours to make."

Coren looked up at him, her expression softening slightly. "And what about Sylvara? Did she… make good choices?"

Sol hesitated for a moment, his glow flickering faintly. "She tried her best," he said finally. "She made some difficult choices. But whether her choices were right or wrong—that's not for me to say. That's for you to decide."

The fire crackled softly as his words settled over them. For a long moment, neither Coren nor Lyra spoke, each lost in their own thoughts.

Finally, Lyra broke the silence, her voice quiet but steady. "I guess it doesn't matter who we were. What matters is who we are now."

Lex let out a soft hum of approval. "Spoken like the Empress herself."

Lyra shot him a sharp look, but there was no malice in it—only exasperation. "Don't start."

Coren nodded slowly, her fingers tightening around the strap of her satchel. "And what we do next."

Sol chuckled faintly, his light brightening. "Then let's focus on the path ahead. The Vault of grief won't wait forever."

"Easier said than done. We don't have a lot of resources without help from the association," said Lyra. Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that Coren immediately picked up on.

"You think the Association will attack us again?" Coren asked, though she already knew the answer.

Lyra turned to her, her expression grim. "Yes. Especially after what happened in the Forbidden Zone. If we show up at the base, we'll be walking into a trap. And let's face it, Coren—we're not equipped to deal with that. Not yet."

Coren frowned, leaning back against her pack. "So what's your plan, then? Stay here and hope the Association forgets about us? Because that's not going to happen."

Lyra shook her head, her gaze shifting toward the distant mountains. "No. I think we need more information. And there is only one place I can think of."

Coren stiffened at her words, the muscles in her shoulders tensing instinctively. "You mean the tribes," she said flatly.

Lyra nodded. "The tribes know this land better than anyone. If anyone can help us move undetected, or even fight back if it comes to that, it's them."

Coren's jaw tightened. She set the stick down and crossed her arms. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Lyra asked, turning to face her fully.

Coren hesitated, her eyes flickering toward the fire. "Because I haven't been back since I was a kid," she admitted quietly. "And they're not exactly the kind of people who take kindly to outsiders. Even if I did grow up there, I'm not one of them anymore. They're not going to trust me. And they definitely won't trust you."

Lyra's expression softened slightly, but her determination didn't waver. "I understand your hesitation," she said. "But Coren, you've said it yourself—the Association isn't telling the whole truth about Earth. They've written off the tribes as little more than scavengers, but I don't believe that's all there is to them. There's more to this planet than they've let on, and I think the tribes might know what we're missing."

Coren stared at her for a long moment, conflicted. The idea of returning to the camps made her stomach twist in knots. She could still remember the harsh faces, the way survival overshadowed everything else. Life in the camps had been brutal and unrelenting. And even though, Lyra had rescued her from it all, part of her still carried those memories like scars.

"You think the Association's lying about Earth?" Coren asked finally, she agreed with Lyra there was something odd about Earth.

Lyra nodded firmly. "I do. Think about it—why hasn't Earth been reclaimed? Why leave it to rot for over 1,200 years when they clearly have the resources to rebuild it? There's something here they don't want anyone to find, and I'm betting the tribes know more about it than they let on."

Coren let out a slow breath, staring into the fire. "And what about the Vault of grief? If that's where the answers are, shouldn't we focus on getting there?"

Lyra hesitated for a moment, her brows furrowing. "I'm not saying the Vault isn't important," she said carefully. "But the timing doesn't feel right. The tribes might not just hold answers—they might be the allies we need to even stand a chance."

Coren looked down at her hands, her mind racing. She couldn't shake the feeling that Lyra might be right, but the thought of returning to the tribes still filled her with dread. "What if they refuse to help us?" she asked quietly.

Lyra's voice softened. "Then we'll figure it out. Together. But I think we have to try. The more we uncover here, the better chance we have of understanding the bigger picture."

Sol, who had been silently observing the conversation, finally spoke up. His silvery light pulsed faintly as his calm voice filled the air. "Earth holds secrets, Coren. Secrets that even we Companions don't fully understand. The Watcher himself hinted as much. Perhaps it is worth exploring further before rushing into the unknown."

Lex chimed in, his red glow flickering with interest. "And who knows? The tribes might surprise you. Survival breeds strength, and strength often hides wisdom. You were one of them once, Coren. They might see that."

Coren's gaze flicked to Lex, then back to Lyra. She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Fine. We'll go to the tribes," she said reluctantly. "But don't expect a warm welcome. If anything goes wrong…"

Lyra smiled faintly, placing a reassuring hand on Coren's shoulder. "We'll handle it. One step at a time."

Coren nodded, though the knot in her stomach remained. As the fire crackled softly between them, she couldn't help but wonder what truths—and dangers—awaited them among the tribes she had left behind so long ago.